


All Good Things Come To Sticky Ends

by Am-Chau (Vacillating)



Category: Seinfeld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-25
Updated: 2011-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:34:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vacillating/pseuds/Am-Chau





	All Good Things Come To Sticky Ends

All Good Things Come To Sticky Ends  
by Am-Chau Yarkona  
as part of [Yuletide2006](http://yuletidetreasure.org/), for Nelson Bannaba. Request: Seinfeld, George/Elaine or threesome.

I saw it all, you know. People think I'm stupid, and they're probably right, but I see what I see.

"Morning, Jerry," I said, when my initial surprise had faded and I'd recovered the cornflakes, which had suddenly become aerially mobile.

Clutching a cushion in a manner which suggested he had less-than-honorable intentions towards it, Jerry strode towards me, making strange gestures behind his back. Perhaps he'd let off a stinky one. "Kramer," he said, menacinglyhe can be quite frightening when he wants to, for a guy who's supposed to be funny. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Anyway, you don't want to hear what I said. We had a reasonable conversation, and while that was happening, I noticed a person sneak from the bedroom into the bathroom, wearing one of Jerry's old shirts. Who was it, you'd like to know? Probably Elainebut Jerry denies it.

A couple of months later once the restraining order had been lifted, I was in Jerry's kitchen again, chipping ice (I'm preparing the world's best and largest ice drink, based on the smoothie procedure but better. It's going to be a hit, so my method is secret). There I am, merry inflicting bodily harm on an ice block (it had neatly formed at the back of the fridgeI didn't know they were supposed to do that), when who should emerge from the bedroom but Miss Benes, once more wearing an old shirt cast off by the stand-up du jour, and spitting with rage.

She was closely followed by said comic, struggling into an only slightly newer shirt and apologizing like a kid eats when he's just discovered candy. "I didn't mean it, Elaine," he pleaded.

"How the mighty haven fallen," I said, standing on a melting ice chip and landing on my ass.

They ignored me. "You shouted his name during sex," Elaine hissed, with the vigor of a snake on ecstasy.

"I forgot, okay?" Jerry said, suddenly capable of defensiveness now his shirt was buttoned. "It's only been a couple of days, I had my eyes closed, your hips are the same shape, now please can we go back to bed so I can... ahem... _finish_?"

"No," Elaine told him, which personally I thought a bit unfair, but I was still applying ice to my ass (luckily, there was plenty around) so I didn't comment. "Why don't you get your BOYFRIEND over and _finish_ with him."

"Me _ow_ ," I added, just for good measure. She threw a couch cushion at me without even looking, and stormed out, slamming the front door behind her.

Well, that ended quietly enough; I finished my ice chips and Jerry went back to bed alone. But just a few weeks later, George came and knocked on my door while I was whipping up a test smoothie. "Kramer!" he yelled when I failed to answer. "Have you seen Jerry today?"

I shook my head vigorously, which was apparently not a large enough movement to be seen through the reversed peephole.

"Kramer! Kramer!" he yelled, hammering with his fists. "I know you're there, answer me!"

Sighing, I went to the door. "I'm here," I said, "Can't a guy ever get on with his cooking?"

"I just wanted to know if you'd seen Jerry today," George said.

"No," I said, "Sorry."

"I just want to know where he is," he was saying. He sounded kind of... sad. "I was with him last night, and it all seemed okay, but after I said..." George tailed off, "Anyway, he was a bit, you know, moody, and I... Never mind. If you haven't seen him, I'll just go and, err, check the murdered bodies reports or something."

"Wait," I said. It isn't often this happens to me, but it seemed like young George had missed a vital step. "Have you tried looking in his apartment?"

"He's not answering," George said glumly.

"But the door's always open," I said. To prove my point, I stepped across the hall and opened it wide, revealing Jerry himself sitting on his couch (and Elaine, somewhat unrobed, but that was hardly the point I was trying to make).

"George?" Jerry shouted.

"George!" Elaine gasped.

"Elaine!" George wailed.

"Jerry!" I said, triumphantly.

"What are you doing here?" they all said at once.

Jerry was the first to recover, getting to his feet and zipping up his fly. "I'm in my own home, with my own girlfriend. What are you doing, George?"

"I've come to see my boyfriend and he's making out with my girlfriend!" George said, then covered his mouth in shock.

"Boyfriend? Girlfriend?" I said. The dating habits of other people have always seemed a little strange to me, but this was over and above the normal level of weird.

"You weren't supposed to know!" George cried. "Dammit, I didn't mean to say that."

"I bet," Jerry said. "You were sleeping with Elaine?!?"

"Yes," George admitted, cringing, but then he looked up. "Wait, so were you!"

They both turned to look at Elaine, who looked at me. "It's all my repressed desire for Kramer," she said, her face perfectly deadpan as my jaw dropped in horror. George and Jerry laughed little forced laughs, and kept staring at Elaine.

It was at that point that I began to consider not merely withdrawing my home from the Union, but myself from people altogether. People are weird. And they pay masses of taxes.

"I was confused," Elaine said. "Jerry was being so nice to me, and George was taking me out every night... I thought I'd just try them both for a while. But then it keeps going, and I'm sleeping with Jerry, and I'm sleeping with Georgeand it's fun to compare, you know?"

"COMPARE?" Jerry and George burst out together.

Elaine shrugged. "Points for effort, George, but Jerry just has the better content."

Up until that point, I think they were all planning to stay friends. After that, though, it could never happen. There was some more shouting, and George said something about suing for deformation of characterElaine said that implied that he thought his whole character was in his penis, and he shut up againbut in was all for show: the friendship had ended.

That's how it all went down. I was there, you see. I know. And that's whywhen I've finally perfectly the recipe for the world's largest ever ice smoothieI'm planning to get them together for a meal and ask their opinion of a foursome. You can't ruin a friendship that's already over, right?


End file.
